


II. The Will

by Zdenka



Series: The Wife of the Man with Two Heads (Purimgifts 2014) [2]
Category: Jewish Legend & Lore
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen, Offstage Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1306690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/pseuds/Zdenka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange case is brought before King Solomon for judgement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	II. The Will

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daegaer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/gifts).



> Thanks to lindahoyland for beta-reading.

As we stand before King Solomon, it seems that everyone crowds forward, eager to explain their views of the case. The king lets each of them speak briefly before silencing them with a gesture. At last he turns to me, although I have not sought to speak, and motions for me to approach. As I reluctantly step forward, I try to set my thoughts in order and recall how the dispute began.

Since I already knew its contents, I allowed my attention to drift as my husband's will was read. “ . . . all money and property which is mine at the time of my death is to be divided equally between my sons.” The scribe looked up, his gaze lingering doubtfully at my youngest son. “There are three of you?” 

My youngest son stirred but did not speak. Instead it was my eldest who answered. “Yes, as you see.”

“Very well. Then the property will be divided into three parts –“

“Four parts,” a voice said abruptly. My youngest son straightened in his chair, his gaze challenging. “Our late father had four sons.”

My second son quickly rose to his feet. “What are you saying?” he demanded, outraged. “Will you bring shame on our father’s reputation, now that he is dead? We who are present here are his only children!”

“I do not dispute that,” the youngest returned. Both his faces looked coolly at his brothers. “You are two. And we are two. The two of us together are owed a half share of our father’s property.”

For a moment, my two elder sons showed identical expressions of dismay, as if they and not he were a single being with two faces. My youngest has always been able to do this, coming up with clever words that catch his brothers off guard, as if compensating for his strange appearance and his youth. “That is false!” my second son retorted, dismay quickly giving way to anger. “You know it is false! Everyone knows you are one person with two heads.”

“Do they? I thought perhaps they know I am a monster, and not a person at all.”

My eldest son looked troubled. “Mother, why do you not speak?”

I was silent. I had grown fond of my husband, in spite of his odd appearance. I knew there was surely a single mind inhabiting his body, and the same with my youngest son. I thought of my husband's quiet pride when our last son was born, his relief at no longer being a singular curiosity, and the sinking feeling I was careful to conceal. My youngest son grew to take pride in his strangeness, as he took pride in his cleverness. Yet there were times he wept in secret because someone had called him ugly. I told him it was not true, that everything that the Lord has created is beautiful; but did he hear the hesitation in my voice? I remembered how he smiled with delight at discovering that he could sing with both his voices in harmony. It took concentration, but no more so than for a man who plays a stringed instrument, guiding the bow with one hand and pressing the strings with the other. I remembered the silent competition between the brothers as children, vying for their father's affection. Feeling all their eyes upon me, I pulled my shawl more closely about my shoulders. I was not long to widow’s garb, and everything filled me with weariness. “It is money,” I pleaded at last. “Only that. Is not peace more important? Let your brother have his way.”

“Then you admit it!” my second son retorted. “He is one person.” He turned to face the scribe. “You heard her.”

The scribe frowned. “I am not certain,” he said delicately. “This is a difficult matter. I have not encountered a case like it before.” He looked at me. “Your late husband –“

“Was the man with two heads who served King Solomon,” I answered. “Our youngest takes after him in appearance.”

“Is this—these-–this—Do you have three sons or four?”

I looked down. “I cannot say.”

“Why are you doing this, mother?” my second son demanded. “Do you favor him over us?”

“It will create a false precedent,” my eldest said more calmly. “It cannot be allowed to stand.”

That was not the end of it, of course, but the scribe finally declared the case too hard for him. The judges and rabbis who were summoned were likewise uncertain: did a man with two heads count as one person or two under the law? They could not decide. At last, the only thing all could agree on was that the matter must be brought before the king. 

**Author's Note:**

> Art Credit:
> 
> “The Meeting of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, with the Four Elements.” British embroidery, c. 1700. From the Metropolitan Museum of Art (www.metmuseum.org).


End file.
